Put a Smile On
by Lucky Pierre
Summary: Find out what happens when our favorite villain storms into a McDonald's and meddles around in the kitchen. Originally written for capslock batman on Livejournal for the prompt "Joker/potato/potato peeler"... that really explains it all.


The evening started off with a bang as the infamous Joker shot a gun into the air. An out-of-the-way McDonalds on the outskirts of Gotham was emptied of living people in under a minute. He grinned and knew he would have as long as required to do whatever the fuck he needed without the fucking police showing up -come on, it's a McDonalds, who honestly gives a shit? Batman was probably off having his dick sucked by the Commissioner anyway.

Scoffing at the thought of batcock, Joker squinted his eyes at a peculiar sight -- this McDonalds had a fucking MIRROR right in the middle of the-- oh wait, no, it was just a cardboard cut-out of Ronald McDonald. He painted a smile on Ron's face with ketchup and shot him in the forehead for having such a nasty wardrobe.

The Joker skipped behind the cash register and threw up handfuls of money in the air for the fuck of it and danced around before heading to where the real fun was.

He munched on a handful of french-fries still tasty and warm from the fryer. "Why shmo delish-oush?" he asked the security camera, mouth stuffed with fries. Joker knocked over several tubs of lettuce and tomato in his search for something, anything, to catch his raccoon eyes. "Heathus Christ," he muttered to himself, "Honestly! You'd think there would be more big shiny knives in a joint like _Mc-Don-alds_, but n-_ooooo_, these sick people haven't the slightest _clue_… all their meat is pre-sliced!!!"

Then as if Heathus himself had answered the mini-rant, a glint of shiny metal caught our villain's attention. He wrapped gloved fingers around the hilt and pulled with a mighty force, reenacting the scene where Arthur pulls Excalibur from the magic stone(!!), then frowned deeply and licked his lips in fascination to find a potato peeler instead of Excalibur, and one giant fucking potato in place of the magic stone.

"The fu-_ck_," he hissed, "is thissss shit?"

He turned it over in his hand and made a few experimental jabs in the air. It was a sharp enough object to pierce the skin, yet blunt enough to hurt like one badass motherfucker. He liked that. Instantly the Joker regretted not tying up any hostages; there was no one he could play with, nobody to experiment on with this new toy. For the sake of it, Joker began to peel the giant fucking potato. He wondered at the different pitches of screams he could make depending on where he stabbed his victim --a guttural "ASDFGSBLAAAH!" if stabbed in the stomach, or a higher pitched "AHHHH HEATHUS WHY?!" if jutted into a shoulder. The sound of screaming made him soooo hard.

He hopped up on the sandwich making counter place and continued his fantasizing. How much blood would pour out from the wound if he pulled out and stabbed again, or better yet, twisted it around… He groaned and splattered a nearby tub of ketchup on the walls and floor around him for a dramatic effect.

Images of men, women, puppies, the presidents… all screaming before him as he stabbed and peeled away at their insides, maybe even their eyes… images of the Batman, shoving Commissioner Gordon over the Grand Canyon at the Joker's command, finally succumbing to the pain he could inflict upon the Bat with this mighty potato peeler…

Why wasn't he touching himself already?

He set aside the newly peeled potato and quickly unzipped his pants. His dominant hand, now ungloved, quickly snaked down south. Of all the pranks the Joker pulled, getting off was always Serious Business; that mammoth boner was no laughing matter.

Pumping away like an oil drill with one hand, his other let the potato peeler dance and traipse up his body, poking at him through his clothes kind of lamely. He smeared it around his neck, across his face, and even ran it through his hair like a strange comb from Bizarro World. Popping it into his mouth, he then effectively made out with it (and made a mental note to wash his own hair --ewwwwww!! But he is a pretty twisted fuck).

Squirming at his own touches, the Joker opened his eyes to find a new and brilliant idea. That giant fucking potato… now nicely peeled …had become rather phallic in nature, and he was reminded of where he had encountered such a thing before… same size, same shape. Dare he even think it? Yes, he always dared, --he had seen that phallus before in the interrogation room --THE BATCOCK. Oh yes! Gordon wasn't the only one to have known the man, the myth, THE BATCOCK.

The Joker set aside the potato peeler and picked up the potato-phallus with his only gloved hand. He swirled it in a puddle of ketchup nearby and shut his eyes to imagine the massively behemoth dick that is the batcock. The bulbous vegetable entered his puckered hole like a spaceship docking after a weary journey through the cosmos.* In and out the Joker was digging for gold, and it wasn't long until bats were flying behind his eyelids and his own mayonnaise flew through the air like a trapeze artist. "Oh, Batsy!" he cried out, and lay there in the midst of ketchup puddles and Big Mac patties.

…

On his way out, the Joker kissed his potato-phallus goodbye and flung it into the French fry….fryer (yeah ;_; I know but you can't just carrying something like that in your pocket all day!!). He did, however, grin madly to himself while imaging all the different ways he could later drink Batman's milkshake.


End file.
